


In The Glorious Days

by Dreaming My Goodbyes (Its_A_Cruel_World_We_Live_In)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Reality, Hemospectrum, I Don't Even Know, No Dialogue, Sad Ending, Sadstuck, Stabat Mater, Threschecutioner Karkat, What Was I Thinking?, no mutants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4610682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_A_Cruel_World_We_Live_In/pseuds/Dreaming%20My%20Goodbyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Soon</i>, the watcher promised, soon they would be freed from the chains that drug them down and buried them in misery. Do not worry, poor children, for the time has come; the time of heedless massacre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Glorious Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just a fic for my own guilty pleasure of having Karkat be completely kick ass. 
> 
> There are no mutants in this because it wouldn't work with what I wanted to do, so I'm going with the fan theory of that Karkat would be a lime blood. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_Now The Night Is Bathing In Disgrace_

Wind howls beckoningly through the deserted streets, the setting sun peeking through the shades of hives and empty vending carts, casting an ominous shadow across the land. Vibrant colors painted the skies like a scene out of a painting with a haunting undertone of apprehension and ultimate doom.

The softness of the curtain brushed against the back of their hand, fingers curling around the bunching fabric just enough to peek out of their hive to watch the sun set completely. One by one trolls left their hives, cagey at first before there soon became a constant, silent stream of trolls roaming the panic-stricken streets that pounded against the watcher's window and chilled them to the bone. The trolls' eyes glanced about warily, broad and thin shoulders alike hunched as they moved about the town, speaking only when necessary and avoiding all touch from the others as if a mere touch, a slight brush of the hand, could kill.

The wind continued to blow relentlessly, throwing black hair into the sky as they all went about their business as fast as possible and returned to their hives soon thereafter. Dread rested on everyone's blood-pushers, the waiting only dragging out everyone's wariness. Trepidation sweltered and grew until it was completely suffocating, breaths becoming ever harder to catch as they watched. Trolls were nearly jogging to get what they needed to be done with and return back to their hives where safety prevailed over the conscious mind.

Tongues ran along dry lips, hearts beating in time to the sound of distant metal drums, the songs of the lost and forgotten souls. Voices sang through streets, unable to be heard, unable to be freed. The voices of the damming souls no one bothered to remember, their bodies swept away as soon as the streets were bathed in the rainbow to return to normalcy. Their blood still pooled on the streets. Their souls still sang in lost memory.

_Hey Do You Still Braid Some Flowers In Your Hair_

The night sky blinked down at the trolls, lightening the world with a dark, mellifluous lullaby. Colors ran scarce as the moons took their places high in the sky, washing the world in shades of grey and leaving the morals all behind. Blackened ground and a white sky, little specs of grey wandering about and coloring the ground with hidden shades of burgundy, bronze, yellow, lime, olive, jade, teal, cerulean, indigo, purple, violet. All alone in a world so large.

The watcher felt sweat beed on their skin, slipping downwards, atrabilious as their aged eyes remained wide and watchful. Wind pushed against the panes of glass, their old hive groaning under the pressure. No eyes spared a glance in their direction, the hushed sound of pattering feet growing louder in their ears with every passing second. Soon they would arrive. Soon, and the townsfolk would be helpless to stop them.

No matter how loud they screamed.

No matter how fast they ran.

The sky pressed down on them, bodies heavy with impending doom. Burdened souls wandered the streets, standing out against the rush of the living. They merely waited for their own death, too old to care, too lost to find their way back. _Soon_ , the watcher promised, soon they would be freed from the chains that drug them down and buried them in misery. Do not worry, poor children, for the time has come; the time of heedless massacre.

_Comes The Sound Of Boots And Metal Chains_

The face was strikingly familiar: messy black hair broken only by nubby horns, arduous anger etched into the lines of his face. He appeared silently, solitary, a long black cloak draped around his broad shoulders to mask the weapons he held with a white-knuckled grip. His presence domineered over the other trolls, blending into the sea as if a single droplet of water and standing out as if a sinking ship. The waves of trolls bent around him, split and crashed back together as he moved through the streets.

One by one they dotted the landscape, all donned in the same blackened cloak. Unassuming, unaware the people were, the watcher's mouth remaining shut as their weapons glinted in the shades of grey the moons brought down upon them. Nor black, nor white, nor fuchsia could stop the clock once set in motion. And as the wind shifted, blood splattered across the watcher's window, burgundy dripping down along the once clear windowpanes.

The lime blood moved with petrifying fluidity compared to those of his likeness, uncaring of the blood as it sprayed onto the streets. A job was all it was, a job to slaughter every breathing troll on the streets that dare have stepped a foot outside. One by one they crumpled down under the might of the threschecutioners and their lime-blooded General. The General's sickles sunk through their bodies with a sickening crunch of bone, sliding out with the slick sound of rushing blood and tearing flesh.

Screams reverberated in their souls, echoing with the voices of the doomed in their haunting melody. Blood sprayed into the grey, staining the white and the black with every color. Sobs cut short, screams silenced in the physical world, bodies crumpling to the ground in silence, faces wrought in terror. No one was left, arrows searing the air as they flew to burrow into the flesh of the runaway trolls.

No one ever escaped.

No one ever was granted mercy.

Steel lime eyes framed with blood of the innocent and the damned met the ever watchful eyes from inside the hive they resided in, tightened fingers slowly released the curtains they had clung to, effectively shutting off the horrific world from their sight. Darkness shrouded them, the soft sound of a liquid hitting the wooden floor beneath their feet the only sound that remained of the living as the wind continued to howl outside through the blood-splattered streets.

_Hey Will The Perfume Of The Daisies Remain_


End file.
